


Liebestraum

by KhadaVengean



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Difficult Decisions, During Canon, F/M, Female Kurusu Akira, Fluff, I Tried, Post-Canon, Redemption, Romance, Self-Hatred, Serious Injuries, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhadaVengean/pseuds/KhadaVengean
Summary: It wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.Goro Akechi's feelings for Akira Kurusu over the time.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	1. Traum

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping. Wrote this in one rush and I regret nothing. Needed to get this out of my system before I burst.
> 
> I'm back again on the Persona 5 Hype Train with F!Akira x Akechi. It's starting anew. Hoo boy.
> 
> Stay safe during these times. I hope this thing can make your day a little bit better.
> 
> English is not my first language. Please be aware of that.
> 
> (Title was taken from Franz Liszt's "Liebestraum". Because I'm an emotional sap when it's about these two.)

**I.**

“It seems I’m unwelcome no matter where I go.”

He was sure that this simple sentence summed up his entire life in only nine words. A laughable fact and a little voice in the back of his head screamed a truth he wanted to look away.

_Just as laughable as your entire existence, Goro Akechi. Just look at you._

First his mother, then the orphanage, Masayoshi _fucking_ Shido and when he finally had a place he could take just a little bit of comfort, a sign to reassure him that he’s doing everything in his power to be accepted, and it got taken away from him once more. The people are laughing at him, cheering for the Phantom Thieves and their victory over an international organization.

The masses were cheering to the Phantom Thieves to change _his heart_ of all possible targets. Not a politician or a business man – no, from all possible people in this entire world, it had to be him. Simply because he didn’t go _d’accord_ with an opinion from the masses.

He was kicked from his pedestal and from this point on, it looked like he wouldn’t be able to climb back up. All the blood, sweat and the tears he had shed in the solitude of his bed, under his blanket, were for waste.

And instead of him, the people looked to the girl right in front of him. A simple, attic _trash_ girl with long, curly hair that reached her chest and glasses that were just too big for her petite nose. They had to be fake – he couldn’t see a label name on the frames. He wondered how she’d look without them. A simple pair of glasses was able to turn her entire presence into a shy and weak girl.

But she had everything he ever wanted. Friends, people who look after her, _the strength to carve her own path._

Goro let out a deep breath out of his nose. Taking a deep breath with his mouth. His face was reflected in the brown liquid and he let his shoulders sink. The scent of Leblanc infiltrated his nose and he felt the same cold climb over his fingers like multiple times before.

He should hate her. Akira Kurusu was an enigma to him and probably to many others, but she was the one girl that was like a mirror to his own being. It was one of those moments.

Instead of the pure anger he felt coursing through his veins, instead of the voice of Loki screaming through his head to keep going, to _avenge his mother, to kill his bastard who ruined his life, to take everything that is valuable to him._

He blinked, his reflection blinked as well. He looked exactly the same. Just the same old Goro Akechi who was the illegitimate son of a man who would become the strongest man in the entire country. A bastard child who was responsible for his mother’s death. If she wouldn’t have had him, then she’d still be alive.

His entire life was a sin. His existence was nothing but a mockery of god or demon – _he didn’t care –_ to show him how insignificant he was. He was nothing. A nobody.

There was no home for him. He wasn’t important to anyone in this world. Even if he’d die the next day or right in that moment, no one would shed a tear for him.

“That’s not true.”

Her voice, a simple and sweet organ which hid just a tiny bit of authority, rang through the cafe and he could hear the breath of Futaba Sakura being cut short. He looked upwards, into her face and he could only watch when she put down her glasses and showed him her pair of gray eyes that held a silver hue to them. A pair of rare orbs, that was for sure and Goro Akechi had the feeling that this sight would be a singularity.

Another thing that made her special. Another thing that made the difference between them.

“I mean, you are welcome here.”

He felt his own breath cut short. A skip in his chest, a little jump from his heart and he looked into her face, her glasses resting on the counter behind. She had her hands folded, her green apron hiding her chest, her black tresses gliding past her white clothed shoulder.

“You are always welcome in Leblanc. The door here is always open for you.”

It was a jump – just a little jump. Not a tantrum in wrath, or slumped shoulders in depression, a low head from resignation or even a shudder from disgust. It was simply a little jump.

His heart jumped in his chest when Akira Kurusu spoke those words and she _smiled at him._

A smile. A tiny movement of the corners of her mouth and it was maybe insignificant to her, probably doing this multiple times a day.

But when was the last time someone had so simply smiled at him? Was there even a moment?

Disgust, wrath, sadness, resignation. And now, a little seed was planted.

_Happiness._

* * *

**II.**

_The months passed and the sight of her tired eyes and grayish-silver eyes bore right through him. She had closed them, tears leaking from her orbs and a smile on her lips._

“ _ **I know you have to do this. But when you pull the trigger, do me a favor.”**_

_He hesitated. The weight in his hand, the gun suddenly felt so very wrong._

_Instead of the gun, his hand got used to hold her own. Her delicate palm, her slender fingers. He got used to cup her cheeks and feel her smooth skin underneath his thumbs._

_The warmth of her skin and the cold of the gun._

“ _ **I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?”**_

_He pressed the barrel against her forehead. A lump was formed in his throat. He couldn’t breath._

_Tears streaming down her face, her eyes closed, her lips formed to trembling smile._

_He pulled the trigger-_

and he woke up.

“Guys, he’s awake. Akira!”

“Goro, are you okay?”

The sight of a black haired beauty graced his vision, her black hair falling past her shoulder and its tips brushing his torso just a little bit. A small touch, a butterfly kiss. A groan escaped his throat, a moan of pain and he tried to flex his hands, tried to form them into fists.

A weight joined his on the thing he lied on – a mattress, maybe? - and the things became clearer. Instead of a clean white ceiling, a wooden one greeted him. Instead of silence, chattering and excited voices greeted him and welcomed him back from the dream he had. A dream he wanted to forget-

Wait. It wasn’t a dream. It happened.

His heart stopped and warm hands cupped his cheeks. He felt a cough run out of his lungs and he tried to lift his right arms when a sharp pain ran right through his shoulder and he cried out in pain and discomfort. Hot needles pricked right into his skin through his muscles into his bones and he gritted his teeth.

“Slow down, Goro. You don’t want the wound to open again.” Her voice rang like a lullaby through his skull. “Haru, can you please get the ice we’ve prepared for him downstairs?”

“Of course.”

Faint steps in the distance and instead of his face, her hands found his left one. Both of them, endulging his hands like a cocoon. Another voice in the background. “We should let Boss know that he woke up.”

“I can do that.” A quirky voice answered the worried one and he closed his eyes once more to open them. His vision became clearer with ever beat of his heart and when he looked at Akira once more, he saw her face in full detail.

There was a bruise on her cheek. Her hair was tousled and she wore a black tank top despite the cold from the outside. But she was smiling at him – a quiet one, the one he was never able to decipher. So many emotions were put into this simple movement and it was one too many for him to understand.

He let his gaze wander. He saw Makoto Nijima and Futaba Sakura sitting together and Haru Okumura coming up the stairs with a huge pack of ice in her hands. All three girls looked at him in worry and a distance he wasn’t sure how to handle.

He closed his eyes again and let out a hiss when the pack reached his knee ankle and his shoulder. Just the faint change of temperature let a shiver run over his skin and forced sweat upon his forehead. He could feel it glide over his temple down his cheeks and onto his neck and let out a sigh of relief when something wet and cold was put on his forehead.

“What...” He had to regain his senses, closing his eyes once more and looking at the four girls in confusion. “What happened?”

They exchanged looks, but Makoto’s stare was clear. “We were able to get you out of Shido’s palace.” A graceful movement, the cat landed on his four paws right next to Akira and sat down, his tail swishing to the left and to the right. The blue eyes looked at him in suspicion and the snort pulled together to a frown. “Akira managed to tackle down Shido’s cognitive version of you and was able to save you.”

His eyes wandered to Akira, whose eyes bore a deep sadness when she stroked the back of his hand. It sent shivers of contentment through his arms and let his whole body quiver.

“It was close, but Akira was able to get you out of there and brought you to the doctor here. She treated you.” Makoto’s authoritative voice echoed through the room. “It was a miracle you survived. We have expected the worst.”

And suddenly, everything came back.

He confronted them in Shido’s palace. He confronted the girl he admired and harbored deep feelings for in the palace of _this monster_ and he had the intention to kill them.

He should have been overjoyed. She was alive, she managed to trick him.

But once again, she showed him what a pathetic example of a human he was. Even the simple order of killing her was too much to be asked of him.

Shido’s cognitive version of himself, how he thought of him, was the living proof for that.

“The wound in your shoulder isn’t too severe. She got it out and you have to let it rest for the upcoming time, but there won’t be anymore great side effects.”

This asshole shot a bullet through his right shoulder. He wanted to die alone, to pay for the sins he committed after realizing that there was nothing of him to do. And instead of greeting the afterlife, he lay in the bed of Akira Kurusu in the attic he had despised so much.

He let out a deep breath, then another wince.

“I think it’s time for us to go.” Haru rose from her position from her chair right next to the staircase, dusting of her skirt. “If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Right. There is no need for being reserved – call anytime you want. We leave our phones on loud.” Makoto joined the young heiress’ message and grabbed her jacket from the chair.

“Text me if you’re home, alright?”

“Got it, Akira.” Both girls waved at them when they went downstairs and Futaba stepped forward, grabbing the black feline. “You’re coming with me, Mona.” Despite the frown on her forehead, he saw the resignation in her features and the slumbering of her shoulders. “If you need something, call. I bet Sojiro will tell you the same tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Futaba. And you too, Morgana.” Faint steps on the staircase and only the two of them were left.

Only him and Akira. Him and the girl he tried to kill. Twice already.

“Ryuji, Ann and Yusuke wanted me to tell you the same. They had to go earlier since they had to catch the last train.” He saw her face, her eyes and he wanted to curse himself for the words he couldn’t stop.

“Why.”

She didn’t look surprised – instead, like she has already expected this question. “Why what.”

“Why did you save me?”

Silence. Only a trembling shiver lay between them and he could only watch when she tenderly caressed his hand, his finger, his wrist. The same hand that so many people had already killed. The same hand that held his sword, the same one he used to pierce the enemies of the man he hated the most.

“I’ve tried to kill you. I’ve tried to get rid of you. I’ve tried to fulfill the goal of this fucking monster.” He bit his bottom lip and with one go, he maneuvered his upper body in a sitting position. It took every last bit of his energy to not fall back. He stared her dead into her eyes. “Why-”

“Out of the same reason you decided to sacrifice yourself for us. I love you, Goro.” Her hands left his hand and she cupped his cheeks once more. Instead of balancing his weight on the matress, he couldn’t resist to put his hands over hers. “I do and I’d rather die trying than just watching how you try to save us.”

“This doesn’t change the fact that I still tried.” He continued to stare into her orbs. “I tried to kill you, Akira. Surely for that, you can’t-”

“That’s true.” Her grip became stronger and it was on the edge of hurting. But it didn’t.

She lowered her head. “Goro, do you know what pains me the most? Do you know the thing that really hurt the most?”

He waited with bated breath, unable to speak. “It hurt me to see that you still managed to do it while being obvious that you didn’t want to. Only now I understand that your hatred and desire for revenge were so strong that you couldn’t have seen another path.”

She pressed her forehead against his. Like so many times before, right in between she told him that he has a place he was welcome and the moment he pressed a gun against her forehead.

“I can’t forgive you completely.”

It hurt. It fucking hurt. But it was understandable. He gulped down his spit and the things he wished to say.

“But together, we can defeat Shido. Together, we can put an end to his story. There is a second chance.”

She linked her fingers with his. He felt her breath against his face. Smelled her scent that always intrigued him.

“Will you seize it with me?”

His heart beat once, twice and continued on. Only thanks to her.

Time passed.

He put his head into the crook of her neck and whispered his answer into her ear.

* * *

**III.**

“Is it true that you killed Wakaba?”

The original laughter died down in one second and all four of them – Akira, Futaba, Morgana and himself were frozen in time.

The gaze of Sojiro Sakura bore right through Goro and he felt the sweat streaming right out of his pores, making the room incredibly hot even in the middle of winter. The father figure of Akira and Futaba crossed his arms in front of his chest and the smoke was slowly rising from his cigarette.

“Sojiro-”

“Akira. Do me a favor and go upstairs.” He didn’t even look at him, just kept focusing him. “I wish to speak with him and want to hear his story.”

He heard Morgana’s grunt, Futaba’s sound of worry and a deep breath from Akira. Silence. The clock kept ticking.

“All right. Come on.” He saw her grabbing Futaba’s wrist and sprinted upstairs with a tossing Morgana in her back. From over her shoulder, she shot him a look and he formed his good hand into a fist.

Sojiro Sakura and Goro Akechi were left behind in the café in which he felt home. The place where he hid himself during the last two weeks, ever since Akira managed to save him.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the counter and Goro obliged silently. The man rummaged behind the counter, he could hear the pots and cups clinking and a cup of coffee was placed right in front of him. Once again, he saw his reflection in the brown liquid.

He looked like a completely different boy.

Sojiro took a long drag from his cigarette and with the last exhale, he voiced the question that lingered between them. “Tell me about it.” He pulled his shoulders up. “Tell me about the background of Wakaba’s death.”

So Goro opened his mouth.

And started to tell him everything. And with _everything_ he meant **everything.**

About his parents. His father who bore the name of Masayoshi Shido, the man whose heart was changed. His mother who was nothing but a tool for his father and during their short liasion, she was left behind with the greatest curse anyone could have bestowed upon her.

A child. Him. A child like him.

Goro could never keep quiet. He always longed for the attention of his mother, reaching for her affection when the only thing she had left for him were empty looks and tears, if she had a really good day. The only way she caressed and petted him were singular hits that occurred only a couple of times. The greatest of affection she gave to him was the possibility to eat with her at the same table.

And simply because he was born a bastard. A boy with no father and a man who would never have accepted him because of his sole existence. While babies were considered to be gifts, he was the direct opposite.

She commited suicide. One day, he returned from playing outside and he found them inside his apartment with a pack of pills on the table and her resting body on the top. She seemed asleep – when he tried to reach her hand, he felt her icy limb.

She had probably done it just when he went outside. Three hours later, he found her.

And when the ability to deserve the metaverse came, a chance was finally offered. He found his niche, his way of becoming useful and finding a purpose in his life. Instead of being a bastard child, his name finally became something.

And Wakaba Isshiki became one of his victims that carried him to the goal. Thanks to her death, he kept on going in his role.

The whole thought made him sick. But when Goro thought about it, it made sense. Those perverted thoughts finally made sense and it forced Goro to choke.

Before he could even reach the end, he felt the tears starting to rise in his eyes and a sob managed to claw its way finally out of his mouth and he would have laughed at himself a couple of months ago.

He sat at Leblanc’s counter, having retold his entire story to a man he even didn’t really know and crying so openly like the little boy the thought he forgot.

Old habits die hard. It was something he learned.

But instead of hits, a hand was put on his shoulder and he lifted his gaze. Tears were standing in Sojiro’s eyes too. They weren’t visible and it would become a secret between them without prying ears and curious daughters. But they were there.

“Thank you, Akechi, for telling me this. Finally, I can find some closure about her death.”

He pressed his hands against his face and drew his shoulders to his body, hiccuping and trying to catch a normal breath. But it was impossible. The dam was finally broken. After eighteen years of suffering and showing only glimpses of the life he was forced into by a cruel fickle of fate’s wrist, he felt like everything fell away from him.

Now he felt like he wasn’t the bastard Goro Akechi anymore. Not the detective prince, a title he forced himself out of his own ambition.

He was simply Goro. Just Goro Akechi. Nothing more and nothing less.

Steps rang from the distance and two arms snuck around his neck, crossed on his chest and a head pressed against his ear and a weight against his back. A warm breath caressed the shell of his ear and her quiet humming echoed through his head.

He grabbed her hands, buried his face in her arms and thanked this cruel god for bestowing him a girl like her and the people he was allowed to open up to. People he would spend his Christmases and New Year’s with.

It was a start.

* * *

**IV.**

This cruel god threatened to tear them apart. Once again.

“This is my decision, Goro. Please.” She blinked at him, her lashes throwing shadows across her cheeks.

“Akira, this is about Juvenile Hall. You can’t just take this upon yourself.” He pressed a hand against her cheek and they were still red from their short trip to the outside to enjoy the Christmas lights after everything that happened on this day. “I should go. This is my fault-”

“No, you don’t understand.” She lowered their hands and titled her head, cupping his right cheek in her hand and pressing their foreheads against each other. “Goro, please, let me explain.”

He strengthened his hold on her hands and offered his open palm to her. She accepted it immediately.

“When I go to Juvenile, there is a chance I can get out of this unscathed. Nijima told me she’d do everything to make it as easy as possible. But I have to go and not you.”

“You didn’t commit any crimes, I did. Therefore, it should be my duty to go.”

“Goro.” Her fingers skimmed his cheek, from his bone over to his jaw and then to his chin. She repeated his motion multiple times. “If I go to Juvenile Hall, I can get out of there. I can start anew, seize my second chance in society. I may get one.”

She didn’t even need to speak anymore. He continued her thoughts and had to laugh about it. She really was remarkable. She thought far more ahead than him.

“If I go to Juvenile Hall, I won’t have anything left. I have no parents, no family, only a title that was given to me out of fame and when my crimes are being made publicly, there will be nothing left.”

He was a murderer, after all. He killed people – because of him, so many people died in collateral damage. And the excuse of Shido wouldn’t let him keep his white vest.

“That’s why I will go. I won’t let you go alone.” She straightened her back and kissed his lips slightly, softly. “If you want to atone for the things you’ve done, be free and do the things you deem right.”

Try to make the best out of it. That’s what she wanted to say. To go Juvenile Hall would also be some kind of escape.

“Akira.” Before the words would die on their lips for one last time for an unknown period, he managed to whisper: “I will wait. No matter how long.”

A light giggle. And a kiss to his lips.

For this night, only these two existed. Without anyone to bother them and only the moon and stars were the witness during this Christmas Eve. A witness to their love and devotion. 

_She gave her life for him. Her freedom. And when she left the area of the prison behind her, saying goodbye to the guard, he waited for her on the other side with a car key in his hand and his ungloved hand reached for her._

_He waited for her. And he always will._

_She stepped to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him._

* * *

**V.**

There was a point of no return. They stood in front of her old house in her hometown and after their trip.

The others spoke their goodbyes. Morgana already went inside.

Only him and Akira were left. Him and the girl who saved him.

He didn’t care for prying eyes. He kissed her. Fully, one last time. He hugged her around her waist and pressed his forehead against hers. His breath was cut short and his chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

This wasn’t the end. It was the beginning.

Akira smiled at him.

And he leaned to her ear. Spoke the words.

“ _ **I love you.”**_

And everything fell into place.


	2. Realität

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years have passed and many things have changed.
> 
> Except her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the events in the first chapter were during Persona 5. Everything in the second is Post!Canon.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> English is not my first language. Please be aware of that.

**I.**

One of the rarest sounds echoed through his apartment at 7 pm on the 2nd June.

His doorbell.

The university assignment was waiting for him – prepared to take another night of sleep and encouraging the deep bags underneath his eyes. With the back of his right hand, he rubbed his lids, stifling a yawn and pressing his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose. With a groan, he rose from his seat at his small kitchen table and downed the last shot of coffee that was left in his mug and with slow steps, he got closer to the door.

Another ring.

He checked out all the possibilities – the only two occasions when his doorbell would ring was whenever his landlady decided to take a stroll through the small number of apartments she owned in this large building. She’d look to the left and the right and because he was polite enough to offer her a cup of coffee or tea, she couldn’t resist to wrap him in idle chatter about some unnecessary things.

But she went to visit her grandson in a small town near Okina, so she was out of the question.

The other possibility was the delivery man. His neighbor, also called the crazy cat lady, tended to buy too much stuff over the net and got it delivered to her apartment. And although nobody knew why, most the men delivered it firstly to his apartment although it wasn’t his.

But it was 7 pm. So that option was crossed out as well.

Maybe Haru? Over the course of the last six months, they have met a couple of times and tended to chat well into the night, speaking about their pasts and their backstories. He told her about his mother, about his father, about the struggle to stay a well liked member of society and in the eyes of his “fans”. She told him about her own father, about her mother who died too soon, about her ex- fiance who was still dead set on marrying her although the business of her father is a thing in her past she had closed.

But she always had a shift in Leblanc at this time of the day, so it couldn’t be her.

The third ring. Quiet persistent.

With a groan, he unlocked the door and opened it with a great swing. “I’m not deaf, I can hear you just fine-”

But all the sounds were stopped and went into a fluffy cushion of cotton when he caught the sight right in front of him. With all the things in the world, he hadn’t expected this.

A black haired girl stood on the other side of the door, right in front of him. The curly mane fell down to her chest, gray eyes looking at him without two lenses blocking the sight of her greatest treasure. Her lips were drawn into a grin, a beam apparent on her features. He saw the little dips in her cheeks.

All the air whooshed right out of his lungs and he was sure that his open mouth resembled a fish in that moment.

“Akira-”

A sound escaped her lips and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against his own and like thunder followed lighting, he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pressed her even closer than she could have ever managed.

“What are you doing here-”

“Happy birthday, Goro,” she whispered into his ear and all the tension fell from his shoulders. The guilt, the stress from university, the nightmares, it faded away. With just three words, one voice and one girl in his arms.

He buried his nose in her hair and smelled once, twice. His heartbeat got calmer, slowly found its peace and the first hesitation passed away. He was at peace and it was a feeling he could only relive only a few times throughout the year.

He kept on believing that it’d change when she’d come to Tokyo. Only one year left and they’d be together, without anyone to keep them apart.

Seconds passed. He took in her hair – even though she hasn’t been living in Leblanc for nearly three months, the note of coffee was so much like her that he couldn’t help himself but associate it with her. Her light perfume climbed its way slowly into his nose and he released a deep breath, digging his fingers into her flesh, but loosening his grip on her.

“Shall we go inside?”

Goro released a deep breath.

Her warm breath dampened his skin and even when he let her go and took a step back to release her, he took her hand into his and led her inside the apartment that had watched him in his most disgusting and humiliating moments. But as soon as Akira stepped inside, the cold vanished and it got a little bit better.

Just a little bit. But it was so much more than he once could have hoped for.

“Pardon my rudeness,” he said, but had to clear his throat when she shot him one of her mischievous smirks, “but don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Aren’t you happy I’m here?”

A pause. A tease. The sight of her grin rose a chuckle out of his throat. “Of course I am, you shouldn’t even think about that question.” He cupped her cheeks, let his thumb run over skin and cheekbone and Akira pressed her hand against his own, nuzzling his right hand.

“I sneaked out of home. Left a note to tell them that I’m okay and that I’ll be back at Sunday evening. I can just hope that they can put one and one together and figure out that I’m here with you so that I won’t have the police at my neck.”

“I thought your days with the police are over, Akira.” A retort. A question, covered by a teasing tone.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Once a Phantom Thief, always a Phantom Thief. Therefore, once trouble with the police, always trouble with the police.”

“If that is your statement, shouldn’t we have problems as well?” The way she pursed her lips, swung her head from side to side made it impossible to not admire her little habits.

And despite all the things in the past, he kept on working to become a detective. Not the one that would show up on TV and hunt the greatest criminals in all of Japan, but nonetheless, a person who would strive towards justice.

It still left the funniest taste in his mouth, whenever it came up.

“Nah, we’ll be alright.” She shrugged it of, put her hands on his shoulders and hung her head lower, her black mane following her with every little motion. “After all, two sides of the same coin. You’re stuck with me, whether you want it or not.”

Those words punched all air out of his lungs and he was left in awe. And slowly, a small laugh escaped his mouth and he stepped forward to kiss her forehead.

“I think I can live with that.”

Later, when it got closer to midnight and Akira was busy preparing herself in the bath room, he palmed the present she had given him for his special day.

A leather necklace with a charm of two snakes raking around each other. Two sides of the same thing, forever tied, forever one.

The door of the bathroom opened and when he saw her, he forgot everything else.

* * *

**II.**

“Ryuji, stop! You’re getting us all killed!”

“We need to be there in time, stop whining!”

“Ann, I think-”

“Oh god, not on me, please!”

“Take care of my feathermen figures before Inari gets them-”

“Futaba, stay with us!”

Goro only sighed and hoped that they would reach the local high school safely without any casualties. Independent whether they were from a car accident or accidental strangling.

To add, to let Ryuji Sakamoto drive the van they rent for driving to their leader’s hometown to surprise her on her graduation day was probably a very early death sentence for the blonde.

Multiple screams in the back row, another gurgling sound and Ann’s continuing begs to Yusuke to not vomit on her pants were stopped all of a sudden when he stepped on the brackets and the car came to a halt, throwing everyone back into their seats and producing a sound so goddamn loud that probably even everyone in Hokkaido would hear it.

“We’re here, folks!”

“Are you completely out of your mind, Ryuji?!” Makoto had her arms crossed right in front of her chest and Goro was only waiting for the big boom to occur right in this car. “You were going completely over the speed limit, not only endangering us but everyone could have crossed our way. If anyone would have seen you, you instantly had your license taken.”

The sweat being formed on Ryuji’s brow was even more accented with the sound of the door being thrown open and Yusuke’s retching sounds in the short distance.

“We’ll never let you ride again. Anyone but you will be at the wheel.”

“But-”

Makoto’s stare was unforgiving, unyielding and he hung his head low. “Yes, Queen.”

“Good.”

Goro stepped out of the van and caught the scent of spring. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom and from a far away, he could hear a crowd speaking murmuring. It was the 5th March and it was Akira Kurusu’s graduation day.

“It’s lovely, right?”

Haru stood right next to him, her fluffy hair pulled together into a ponytail and a bouquet of flowers in her arms. All different colors – red, yellow, light and dark blue, pink, little accents of green. It was a collection of all the different colors, unified with a white ribbon.

Each color becoming a part of a greater picture. Accepting each other, mending into each other, creating an unusual dynamic and even accepting the ones that were left out and not really mashing with the others from an outsider’s perspective. Open-minded and forgiving.

All of them unified by a pure soul, guiding them into full bloom. A color that could adapt to any one of them.

It brought him a peace of mind.

“It is.”

Another retching sound of Yusuke and Goro let his shoulders fall. Haru giggled quietly, her free hand covering her mouth. “Oh my. I’m sure that Akira will be surprised about our appearance.”

“You can say that again.”

The wind picked up. A breeze sorting through his short ponytail. The echoes of voices drew closer and from the distance, he could already see graduated students leaving the school ground with their parents.

While both Makoto and Haru spent their graduation day with their fellow thieves, he had simply accepted the papers and sneaked away from his classmates. He was absent from the last photo they had taken as a class and closed this chapter finally.

Akira had waited for him at the school gates, waved at him and guided him to Leblanc to celebrate his graduation. While he expected a simple lunch with her and Boss’s curry, he hadn’t expected to see all the former Phantom Thieves waiting for them and enjoying their feast in honor to the three oldest members of their group.

Akira had sat right next to him, sneaking her arm around his left one and leaning into his side whenever someone wasn’t looking.

“I can see her! She’s coming, guys!”

“Prepare yourselves!”

Goro looked up and Io and behold, he could see her as well. One of the  first ones to leave the school grounds with her grandparents by her side. The ones who supported her and accepted her after she was being made an outcast by her parents. Even when her record was clean  and she wasn’t a delinquent anymore, her parents cast a blind eye. 

All of the Phantom Thieves were grateful for her grandfather- and mother, for accepting and taking her in after everything that has happened.

“Any idea where to eat?”

“You can decide, I don’t have any preference right now.”

“Akira, this is your graduation day. If anyone is allowed to make wishes today, it’s you!”

“Why don’t we just eat sushi? I want my fatty tuna!”

And of course, it wouldn’t only be Akira they saw that day. The black feline, their guidance and probably Akira’s closest friend of them all, sneaked his head right out of her bag and looked at her with those big blue eyes of his.

“How about sushi, then? We can get something for Morgana, as well. I owe him, to be honest.”

“If that is your wish, we should try to get a table that fits ten people.”

From afar, he could see her confusion in her features after her grandfather’s words. “Ten? Why would we need ten?”

Silence. Until two voices out of them echoed through the entire space between the leader and her best friend and the remaining Phantom Thieves. “Akira!”

Both Ryuji’s and Ann’s voices were loud enough to make her freeze in her movement. She looked their way and it was a moment to behold.

Like slow motion, he could see all of her emotions passing in her facial structures: shock, surprise, bewilderment, joy, happiness.

“What?!”

Morgana’s shriek  was the icing on the cake. With all the speed she could muster, she started to run towards them. Her curls were flying behind her, Morgana’s groans were audible and when with one big jump, she slung her arms around both his and Haru’s neck and buried her face in their shoulders. “What- what are you doing here?!”

“Mission: _surprise Akira on her graduation day_ is complete.”

“Why didn’t we think of a better name, by the way?”

Haru giggled. “I think Ann said everything.” Haru’s free hand that wasn’t holding the bouquet stroked her hair a little bit. “Congratulations on graduating.”

“You guys-” A hiccup and tears were streaming down her face. “You guys.” She hugged Haru and flung herself at him, standing on her tiptoes to press him close to her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The weight of the necklace against his chest was warm and it filled his veins. “Always.”

* * *

**III.**

“ _I am well aware that this letter is unexpected. But there is something I wish to talk with you about. Please visit me in prison so that we can speak about it.”_

**\- signed by Masayoshi Shido**

The scars on his body were a constant reminder of the things he had done. And whenever he’d look into the mirror, got himself dressed, he could see them. The majority of them were white and thin, not even visible unless you’d look really hard to see them. Others were obvious, a story carved into his skin.

He wished to atone, because one lifetime wasn’t enough to pay for his crimes. Every day was a possibility to do things better. Be it by simply doing something for his girlfriend when she was sick with cramps or had a cold, by assisting Yusuke with his art and giving him his honest opinion even though his knowledge of his passion was limited. He took the work of Makoto whenever her case was a big one, he brought Mona some sushi whenever he went out grocery shopping, he stepped back whenever the divide between him and Futaba was too strong, he paid a visit to Haru’s newly opened cafe or by joining Ann’s and Ryuji’s workout whenever the other one wasn’t available. 

Five years have passed. He was twenty-three years old, graduated from university and began to work as a detective in a minor police department in Tokyo. It was a far-cry from his TV appearances, but it was enough. It brought him enough money to pay the rent for the apartment he occupied with Akira and to give him a full belly.

Half a decade h as passed and it was the first time in those one thousand- eight-hundred-and-seventeen days since he looked into the face of the man who started the tragedy of his entire life. The same man who was corrupted by the same malevolent being, the one human that entwined his and Akira’s fate. 

Masayoshi Shido had grown older over the course of the last five years. With fifty-three years, he was considered to be very young for his age, without any ailments to plague him. The peak of his career was right in front of him,  but the coup of the Phantom Thieves to overthrow him cost him this youthfulness. He had tasted right out of the holy grail to stay young and it took everything at once. 

“Say that again.”

Shido cleared his throat, intervening his hands and letting his shoulders fall. The tension escaped his every limp and the man in front of him – this deadbeat, asshole of a father – exhaled deeply before starting anew. “I have spoken with my lawyer about how to proceed with my wealth. I wish to give it to you – according to law, you are the person to inherit all the money I have gathered over the last years. I called you to speak with you about it.”

When Shido had bared the exact sum, Goro Akechi couldn’t help but choke on his own saliva.

“It is your decision. I won’t be needing it anymore since I do not intend to buy myself out of here.”

Even though the gaze of Masayoshi Shido wasn’t the same as half a decade ago, it still remained the same in its core. Hard, unrelenting, stubborn.

“Are you serious about this.”

“I am.” The grip of his hands tightened, he could see his arms tensing up. “Over the last five years, I’ve had time to think about the things I have done. ” Goro’s eyes fell to his hands – the same hands that commanded so many underlings, gave his signature to whatever helped him to get to his throne as the prime minister. 

“This money is yours, Goro-”

“Don’t call me that.” He never would have imagined that he could still speak like that. But the deep tone, the cold, the sharp tone, it stayed inside his voice and the lone sight of the former candidate to become prime minister was enough to get this dead think alive from its eternal sleep. “Never call me that again.”

Without the sunglasses, he could see right into his face, into his eyes. He closed his lids. “Akechi, then.”

Goro’s heartbeat went erratic. Once, twice, eight times, twenty, thirty, forty-eight-

“This money is yours. I wish to give it to you. Whatever you wish to use it for, it is your decision.”

This is wrong. So very wrong – it was bloodmoney, the smell a constant scream inside his nose that it was wrong. Turn it away, turn it away-

“You really think that money is the way to solve this? Do you really think that I accept that I am your only ‘heir’ to this whole shitload of money, after everything that you’ve done to me?!” His voice was a blizzard and became a volcanic eruption. He hit the table, heard the sound echo through the soundproof room around them. He felt the stares of the prison’s wards on the back of his head, but he didn’t care. “Do you have any idea what you did to m e , to my mother?! You ruined her life,  you pest! You left her behind and for what?!”

Shido continued to look at him. The volcano wasn’t satisfied yet. “You knew I was your son and yet- and yet-” The words left his mouth all of a sudden and the fire ceased, leaving only the faint note of smoke behind. “Goddamnit!”

He shot up from his seat, the chair tumbling over and a crash accompanied his shouts, his screams. “What is it that you want to achieve?!”

“Nothing.” The answer was similar to a shot of a gun – quick, efficient and the impact was strong enough to make him wheeze and lose his balance. “I know what a change of heart implies. Before the Phantom Thieves changed my heart, I had never batted an eye to the things I had to discard to get my own way. I had believed in the things I did.”

For Goro, time stopped right in this moment. Those last eight words were enough to let the avalanche run freely over the wilds and cool down all the earth beneath its force. The words were lying on his tongue, Goro could see it, but instead of throwing another speech, he glided his arms over the surface of the metal table, showed his open palms and hung his head low.

“It is your decision. Your choice. No matter which answer you choose, I will accept it.”

Acceptance. Respect. No defiance, no hatred.

This was it. The things he had wished for. In another time, in another u niverse . 

Goro felt the lump thicken in his voice and he turned around on his heel, knocked on the door and got out as soon as he could. He didn’t look back.

He hadn’t even thought once about looking back.

The walls of the prison around him were sickening him. He truly wondered how Akira was capable to survive this emptiness, the narrowness, claustrophobia taking a bite from his nerves like a demon.

For the thousandth time, ever since Christmas Eve five years ago, he was grateful for her – back then, there was nothing to catch him. No family that could try to stand in for him, his public image gone. Back then, Akira had decided that his way of atonement was the way of the living.

Goro Akechi stepped out of the prison, his hands curled into fists and his shoulders were shivering, even underneath the thick winter coat he wore. His gloves squeezed when his grip became tighter, his breath shallow and puffing out in little clouds. It started to snow, another white day in December.

“Goro?”

The detective looked upwards and he let out a deep breath. He could feel something prick at his eyelids and he blinked multiple times, trying to ban them away. It wasn’t right – he should feel hatred and wrath against this man.

Not this emptiness that started in his head, spread over to his shoulders and arms, over to his upper bodies and finding i ts end in his toes. He felt like he could just let go and he wouldn’t be able to keep himself on his feet. 

The sight of Akira waiting for him, her black curls bound into a ponytail and her red cheeks from the cold nearly forced  him to lose it. But he kept on clinging to this last bit of sanity that he possessed. 

She waited for him while he approached her, burying his hands in the p ockets of his coat. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” Two hands on his shoulders, her squeeze lovingly and patiently. Oh god, he could feel it coming.

“Do you want to go home?”

He remembered – they had originally planned to go to Destiny Land before the letter found its way into their mail box.

“I-”

Good question. What exactly did he want?

“Let’s stay here for a while longer, if that’s alright.”

“Anything you need.”

When she took his gloved hands into her own gloved ones, he bit his lip. Tasted the blood on his tongue. It was difficult. It was nearly impossible.

And it became something too painful to bear. The scar on his soul that bore the name ‘Masayoshi Shido’ was ripped open once again and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders while he sobbed into her shoulders, clinging onto her for dear life. Akira touched his neck with her nose and her hands found the part of his scalp that was open for her tender touch. Her fingers skimmed through his ponytail and she pressed a small kiss to his pulse.

The scar was open, bleeding once more. His tears, fat and  _ pathetic,  _ ran down his cheeks and gathered at his chin, falling on her jacket. 

For a second, he thought that the darker spot on the black fabric was red.

Her embrace was soothing.

Maybe it could heal fully this time.

* * *

**IV.**

“ _I was such a fool.”_

“ _Don’t misunderstand.”_

“ _You’re the one that’s going to disappear!”_

A shot fell. The air was pierced through with a bullet and all sound died in his ears.

Pain. Incredible, endless, infinite pain shot through his left shoulder, biting its fangs right through fabric, skin, muscle and bone. A seed of suffering bloomed right in the center of the pain, its petals reaching beyond his shoulder and to his collarbone, his neck, down his left arm and his chest.

A muted scream. A s cream for help, a hurting cry.  A child, falling on his bottom while he lost all balance and fell right on his chest. The pain continued, the seed turning into a full flower. 

A grunt, something hit the ground and he heard the distant sound of cuffs being put around an other's wrist. Steps on the ground, running and a woman speaking to her child in hushed whispers, tears thickening her voice.

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder. Two hands, trying to flip him on his back. Gloves, rubbery gloves cupping his cheeks and trying to pull his eyelids down. “Goro, can you hear me? Stay with us, snap out of it.”

He knew that voice – it was strict, motherly, a caring soul who had looked after him. Chiding him when he stayed too late and sent him home when he was too sick.  _ “You don’t want to worry Akira, Goro.” _

Goro focused. He saw something only faintly – no engine’s room, no ship, not the feeling of metal underneath his skin. Instead, a light in close reach. Instead of the rusty sounds of a ship’s inner machinations, he felt murmurs and screams and cries, sirens in the distance. 

“Makoto-”

“Hush, it’s alright.” The hands on his cheeks lingered. “We’ll get you all patched up, no need to worry. In no time, you will be alright.”

His left hand was as heavy as lead. But he could still feel his fingers on his right side, his digits slowly moving one by one and he rose his right hand, grabbing her arm. He could only faintly make out her silhouette. “Did I-”

“Hey, get an ambulance, hurry!”

Something heavy pressed against his shoulder. He could feel liquid running out of his body, pooling underneath his arm and down his upper body. “Makoto, tell me-”

“Don’t speak.” Her fingers carded through his hair. “You need your energy for something else. Concentrate on my voice and don’t speak, we need to get you to the hospital-”

“Did I do the right thing?”

From the distance, he heard the hesitation in her breath. He heard someone grumble, the pressure faded from his shoulder but it came back only seconds later, pressing down on his skin.

He could still see their faces. All the pain, all the anger, all the hatred – it was rightfully so. They had every right to hate him, to despise him, to wish they he died.

“Back then, I wanted to do things right...” A scream out of his throat, sudden and piercing, a strike through his limbs and his throat was sore. He felt something run down his cheeks. “ After all the things I’ve done to Haru, to Futaba… to the things I’ve done to you-”

A hiccup. He didn’t know from who.

“After you saved me, after you showed me the reality I’ve wanted to ignore, I’ve thought that death was the only option-”

He really wished to. He was prepared to accept sea water as his air, to let death fill his lungs instead of life.

“Don’t speak, Goro!” The pressure on his cheeks joined the one in his shoulder. “Death is not an option, you’re going to survive this! I won’t allow you to die right here-”

Something was released in his throat and he let out a deep breath. It vaguely reminded him of a sob. “I’m tired of going through this pain, Makoto. I-”

“Call his girlfriend, Inspector Nijima. He’s drifting to hysteria, she needs to come as soon as possible!”

Another voice, a male sounding one, gruff on his left side.

Goro’s eyes closed. A heavy weight pulled them down. He wanted to sleep. Close his eyes and just rest.

Yes, resting sounds like a good idea.

And so in the middle of shattered glass and a cuffed culprit with a gun right next to him and a crying child only a couple of meters away, Goro Akechi fell asleep.

* * *

**V.**

The first two things he noticed were his dry eyes and the light that pierced right through his iris into his  retina. 

The third thing he noticed were voices from afar. The fourth and fifth were words he couldn’t figure out and something piercing the inside of his elbow.

The sixth thing was a whimper. The seventh a silhouette, sitting by his left side. The eighth was another person, sitting on his right.

The ninth was a weird taste in his mouth.

Goro Akechi woke up. Squinted his eyes shut and opened them again. He saw a white ceiling. A gasp, two, out of surprise and suddenly, a weight against his chest and arms on both sides of his head. The scent of coffee infiltrated his nostrils and something wet hit his right shoulder.

“Goro, you’re awake- You’re-”

“I’ll get the doctor.”

A door was closed and he was alone with the person that pressed herself against his body. Curls brushed against his skin, and sobs escaped the person’s mouth.

A pair of breasts against his chest. A woman then. With long, curly hair in the color of ebony. A scent of coffee in his nose and a voice at his ear, whispering his name over and over again.

“I’ve thought you died out there-”

“Akira.”

The name, of the one woman that was, is and will always be his light and darkness, came as naturally from his lips as air.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

* * *

**(VI.)**

_On the entrance of the hospital, a small numbers of news reporters gathered. The story of a young inspector throwing himself in front of a child to save him from a criminal’s gun was enough to make headlines._

_Goro Akechi was hailed as a hero. A virtuous young man, selfless and caring, a true fighter of justice for the young and future. It was the first time in over ten years that his name hit the news._

_But for the first time in ten years -_

Goro Akechi didn’t care one bit about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently made a Tumblr account. If anyone is interested, you can find me under 'KhadaVengean'. I still have to figure out how to use it since I don't really use social media, but I'd be honored if anyone would give me a visit.


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